


Musically Inclined

by MsMelancholy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Crowley, Anxious!Crowley, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is baby if y’all didn’t know, Crowley’s Eyes, Crowley’s Hiss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Godparents Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Im obsessed, Long Haired Crowley, M/M, Minor Injuries, Protective Crowley, Sad Aziraphale (Good Omens), Someone stop me, Supportive Aziraphale (Good Omens), crowley loves kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 05:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19739215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMelancholy/pseuds/MsMelancholy
Summary: ”A box that was tucked under the coffee table was unable to open with the rest, so Aziraphale pulled it out and opened it himself. Inside was a Ukulele, a Violin, and a few used music composition books. The edges of the books were worn and it almost looked like some of the pages were about to fall out.”[Or: Four Times Crowley played for Aziraphale and One Time Aziraphale played for him.]





	Musically Inclined

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all actually liked my other fanfic, so I tried to write something a little longer!! I hope you like it,,,

“This is the last box!” Aziraphale cheered happily, dropping the cardboard box onto the counter with a huff.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t just miracle all of our stuff here.” Crowley groaned as he flopped onto the brown leather sofa.

“That’s a lot of stuff to transport at one time. We’d be completely puckered out before it even hit noon!” Aziraphale wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. “Plus, don’t you think it’s worthwhile to do it without powers?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’.

Aziraphale sighed softly, beginning to unpack their eating utensils and arranging them into the cabinets neatly. The couple had just moved into their new flat, since Crowley was worried about Hastur or Beezlebub coming to get them in his old one. He’d deny any accusations of being paranoid, but after the 3rd night of Crowley waking up in a cold sweat, Aziraphale decided that maybe a move would be for the best.

“Why don’t I just-” Crowley snapped. The cardboard boxes opened and the miscellaneous objects and furniture moved into place, pictures hung on walls while hangers and clothes worked in tandem to hang themselves in the closets.

“Crowley! We could have done it on our own!” Aziraphale pouted.

“Cheer up, angel. This just gives us more time to relax together.” Crowley hummed.

“I suppose.” Aziraphale agreed.

A box that was tucked under the coffee table was unable to open with the rest, so Aziraphale pulled it out and opened it himself. Inside was a Ukulele, a Violin, and a few used music composition books. The edges of the books were worn and it almost looked like some of the pages were about to fall out.

“Crowley, dear, what’s this?”

“Hm?” The demon opened one of his eyes and shot up quickly to grab the items. He was only able to snag the ukulele before Aziraphale held the notebook behind his back and clutched the violin in the other hand. “Angel…”

“You play? And you never told me?!”

“You never assssked.” Crowley hissed, flopping back onto the couch defeatedly.

“Can you play something for me?”

“I’m not really in the mood--”

“Pretty please?”

Crowley ran his tongue across his fangs, looking decidedly like he did _not_ want to play anything, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say no to the angel. Especially when his eyes lit up like he had just seen the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Fine, but only one song.”

Aziraphale carefully placed the notebook and the violin back into the box before taking a seat beside Crowley on the couch. His eyes were focused intensely on the strings of the ukulele, wondering what Crowley was going to play and how great it would sound and-- wow he was in love.

Crowley started slowly, playing a few chords to make sure the ukulele was still in tune. Once he was sure, he changed to a different chord progression than the one he was playing before. The minor chords resonated gently with the warm air of their apartment. Aziraphale didn’t recognize the song he was playing, sounding too modern for his tastes, but it sounded lovely nonetheless. He almost forgot to breathe until Crowley’s fingers stilled on the strings and the demon looked away embarrassingly.

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed adoringly, the human embodiment of the heart eye emoji. “That was lovely...absolutely beautiful.”

“It was nothin’.” Crowley grumbled, hiding his blush.

Aziraphale praised him all night, regardless of how much he tried to change the subject.

* * *

  
  


“GO LEFT!!” Aziraphale cried out.

He swiveled his head around to focus on the two hunters that were following after them. The girl hunter, a small Native American with two long traditional braids, was aiming a crossbow at the two. The other, a tall and lanky Hawaiian boy, was driving the car. The girl couldn’t seem to get a good shot on them, so she grunted and lowered her bow.

“Crowley! They’re speeding up!”

“Shit.” Crowley cursed, slamming his foot down on the gas and running through the red light.

Crowley and Aziraphale weren’t trying to catch the attention of nearby hunters. In fact, they didn’t even know that there were still hunters in the 21st century. With the advancement of science, they figured that people wrote off any supernatural occurrences with some bullshit scientific explanation.

But they’d gotten to carefree with their miracles and conversations about heaven and hell respectively. During a stroll through the park, Aziraphale had miracled a little girl’s bike tire. Crowley miracled up some birdseed. Then they proceeded to get into a heated argument about how Gabriel and Beezelbub weren’t as different as they thought they were.

It was the boy who approached them first. Asking if he could get some help with his girlfriend who’d fallen and twisted her ankle. Despite Crowley who obviously didn’t want to be bothered with it, Aziraphale had still made his way over to where the short girl sat on the floor, eyes scrunched up in pain. Aziraphale bent down and motioned for Crowley to help him lift her up and then suddenly everything was moving in slow motion.

The girl tossed a bottle of holy water at them and had Aziraphale not been standing in front of him, Crowley would have been drenched and discorporated. It took Crowley about 0.5 seconds to process what happened before he grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and damn near tossed him into the Bentley.

Flash forward to the present, where Aziraphale was losing his mind in the passenger seat about the rapidly approaching Volkswagen that he was watching in the rearview mirror.

“What are we going to do? If they catch up to us then who knows what they’ll do to us! What if they torture us? Or show the world that we exist? What if they-”

“Breathe, angel.” Crowley soothed, golden eyes shining. His glasses had long since been discarded, too stressed to give a shit about who saw his eyes. “I have an idea, but I’m not 100% sure if it’ll work or not.”

Aziraphale takes a deep breath. It doesn’t help, but Crowley seems to be happy that he’s trying to calm down. Crowley’s eyes seem to glow and suddenly they’re rocketing forward, narrowly avoiding the cars that were driving on the road.

A sharp pain shoots through Aziraphale’s shoulder. He almost doesn’t realize that there’s a golden arrow piercing straight through his shoulder until Crowley stops the car on an overpass closed for construction.

“I’m surprised that worked.” Crowley sighs in relief, turning to Aziraphale. “Holy shit- Zira!”

“Hm?” Aziraphale says, dazed.

“You have a fucking _arrow_ in your shoulder!” Crowley’s hands flutter around Aziraphale anxiously, trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

“I-- how did that get there?” The angel tugs on it but quickly stops when a wave of nausea washes over him.

“Holy shit holy shit holy shit.” Crowley repeats like a mantra. “I’m gonna have to pull it out.”

“M’kay.” Zira’s head feels heavy and filled with static. He’s too overwhelmed to properly process what just happened. “Sing for me?”

“You’re deliriousss.” Crowley hisses, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m not.” Aziraphale replies stubbornly. “But honestly, it’ll help.”

Crowley starts off with a low hum. It’s another song he doesn’t recognize but vaguely remembered Crowley singing it while watering his plants. Aziraphale is practically asleep when Crowley yanks the arrow out of his shoulder. He yelps in pain, but quiets down as a cool feeling flashes across his body. It’s probably Crowley’s doing, but he can’t find it in himself to stay awake any longer. He falls asleep to the sound of Crowley’s voice.

* * *

  


Adam never signed up to get three new dads and a mom, but god couldn’t give two shits about what Adam wanted. Sometimes Newton and Anathema stopped by his house to talk and have tea with Adam. Adam and Anathema would get into heated debates about American politics and environmental issues while Newton just laughed along on the side, barely able to keep up with the other two.

More often than not, Crowley and Aziraphale were the ones who would drop in to check in on their favorite antichrist. At first, it was a formality. They wanted to make sure the boy wouldn’t be reverting back to his old ways. When it became obvious that Adam would stay Adam, they continued to come just because the little gremlin had grown on them.

They were there for every birthday and you’d always be able to spot a couple of gifts under the Young Family Christmas tree every year addressed to Adam from Crowley and Zira. Whenever Dog would get out and Adam found himself unable to find him, he could always count on the angel and the demon to help him find the naughty dog (he was usually digging holes in the Pulsifer-Device yard anyway).

At the moment, Adam, Pepper, Wensleydale, and Brian were racing through the woods. This time, they were playing hunters, trying to see who could find the most interesting animal. Wensleydale was in the lead because he found a mockingbird. Pepper argued that the snake she found was a thousand times cooler than a stupid bird, but Adam awarded the point to poor Wensleydale who probably wouldn’t find anything cooler after this anyway.

“I want to find a badger,” Brian said randomly.

“Why?” Adam questioned, hopping over a fallen log.

“They’re neat! They have cool racing stripes. Kind of reminds me of my raccoon.”

“You have a raccoon?” Wensleydale gaped. “Your parents let you keep a raccoon?”

“Not really,” He lamented. “I leave food for it outside my window and it always comes right before I go to bed. My parents don’t really know.”

“I want to find a porcupine.” Adam grins cheekily. “I want to touch one of their quills!”

“They’re dangerous!” Pepper scolds. “My mum told me how she got pricked by one when she lived in America. It hurt like hell to get out.”

“That just makes me want to touch it more.” Adam sniggered.

“Woah! What’s that?” Brian gasped, pointing a hive hanging from a low branch.

“It’s a beehive!” Wensleydale cried out.

“I’ll give you everything in my piggy bank if you poke it.” Adam challenges Brian.

“Seriously?” Brian punches Adam’s shoulder playfully. “You aren’t kidding me?”

“Honest! We can go home and get it after this!”

“This is a stupid idea.” Pepper grumbles once Brian starts scaling the tree. He has a stick clutched in one hand and he seems entirely concentrated on the task at hand.

“You’re just jealous that you’re not getting the money.” Adam sticks his tongue out.

“Am not! I just think this is stupid and dangerous.”

“Alright, here we go!” Brian shouts, perched upon a branch just above the nest. He juts the stick out violently and the hive falls to the floor. Pepper instinctively grabs at the nearest person, who happens to be Wensleydale, and takes off in the opposite direction of the hive. Adam goes to do the same but feels guilt nagging at him to wait for Brian to get to safety.

“Brian! C’mon!”

“I’m trying!” Brian cries out. “I’m just going to go up!”

It’s too late because the ‘bees’ are angry and swarming. Adam feels one sting him, then another, and another, and suddenly he can’t breathe because all he can feel is pain with one sting after another.

Pepper, ever the prepared one, is already dialing Crowley and Aziraphale’s numbers. Brian climbs out of the tree and tries running the angry insects away, but it only leads to him getting stung a few times too. Wensleydale tosses water at the bugs from his thermos, but it does little damage.

“Mr. Crowley?” Pepper’s voice is shaky and nervous.

“Pepper?” Crowley is suddenly more awake than he was moments ago. Aziraphale pokes his head in from the next room over. “What’s the matter?”

“We were in the woods and Brian poked a beehive and now they’re stinging Adam and Adam isn’t moving!” She frets, clenching the phone tightly in her hand.

“ _What?_ Okay, we’ll be there in a second.” Crowley hangs up the phone.

“What happened?” Aziraphale asked, putting his coat on.

“The kids are being terrorized by bees apparently.” Crowley pushes himself off of the couch and stretches. “I’m tempted to think that they’re messing with wasps or hornets though.”

“Oh dear. Shall we get going?”

“Of course.”

The two teleport to the forest, deciding that driving would be wasting precious minutes. Plus, heaven and hell could come suck their asses if they wanted to be mad about the extraneous use of their powers. Pepper spots them instantly and waves them over.

“He’s over here. Most of them went away but there are still some left.”

Crowley was _not_ expecting to see 30-something wasps swarming around the small boy who was laying on the ground unmoving. Brian was dealing with 10 or so wasps that he kept trying to smack with a stick. Crowley huffed an angry breath and slaked over. Blowing dramatically, the hornets (as Aziraphale was quick to point out, “THOSE AREN’T BEES”) blew away, off to bother some other forest animals no doubt.

“What the hell were you guys thinking?” Crowley scolded, running on adrenaline.

Aziraphale picked up Adam, leading the way back to the Pulsifer-Device residence. “Crowley, dear. You can yell at them later, we need to deal with this first.”

Anathema was decidedly confused and concerned with the sight before her when she opened her door. Wordlessly, she took Adam’s body and placed him on a bed. Newton scrambled to find a first aid kit, throwing assorted medical supplies at his wife before running into another room to grab something else.

“What in the world happened?” She questioned.

“He was stung by hornets. I’m unsure of how many, but he needs medical assistance.” Aziraphale explained.

“Was anyone else stung?”

“Me, but I’m fine.” Brian said shakily, scratching at his arms and he looked at his best friend’s unconscious body. “Is he going to be okay?”

Anathema was caught off guard by the three children who stood at her feet. Their eyes were misty and their gazes were unwavering from Adam’s unmoving form.

“Of course, he’s going to be fine. I’m going to treat him right now.” Anathema smiled reassuringly. “Newton, why don’t you take them into the living room to watch TV?”

Newt hopped up. “Yeah, yes, of course, right on it!” He led the three children out of the bedroom.

“You two can’t just-- you know-- magic this away?” Anathema asked once the children left the room.

“It’s not that simple.” Aziraphale fidgeted with his cuticles. “We can help make it easier, but I’m not too experienced in doing miracles on hornet stings. Venom is a tricky subject.”

Aziraphale spotted a guitar hanging on the wall across from them. “Crowley, my love, why don’t you play something? It would certainly ease tensions.”

Crowley seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, looking at Adams body, and then nodding. “Okay.”

He pulled the guitar off of the wall before taking a seat in the chair that was in the corner. Anathema ran a cold washcloth over Adam’s stings. The swollen bumps were red and angry and a few of them were bleeding where Adam had begun to scratch at them. Crowley played slow soft songs, tension seeping out of his body as he strums the strings of the old guitar.

“Mum?” Adam’s quiet voice whimpered. He began to shift on the bed and Anathema had to hold him down to keep him from irritating any of the stings any further.

“It hurts, ugh, make it stop.” He groaned, using one of his hands to scratch at the stings on his leg. Aziraphale stepped in to help hold him down, which only made the boy wriggle about more as he got anxious and antsy.

Crowley had always been a sucker for kids, that much was obvious. Since Noah’s Ark when he snuck the village children onto the boat, he had never been able to get rid of his weak spot for children. He supposed that was why Adam had easily wedged his way into his serpentine heart. He supposed that’s why his hands stilled against the strings and he found himself unable to move as he watched the poor kid, _his poor kid_ , whine helplessly as Anathema attempted to disinfect the stings and reduce the welling.

“Crowley. Crowley. Crowley!” Aziraphale called out.

Crowley’s eyes snapped up to Aziraphale’s blue ones. He shook himself out of his stupor and immediately went into playing something else. Aziraphale recognized it as a song from one of the shows that Adam was always watching and ranting about whenever they came over.

He went from singing something along the lines of “love like you” to a funny little song about giant women. Aziraphale would never understand what these songs meant, but Adam and Crowley seemed impassibly more calm, so he supposed it didn’t matter.

Eventually, Anathema finished doing everything she could for the boy. Aziraphale miracles his pain away.

“You will wake having had a dream about whatever you like best.” Aziraphale says softly before following Crowley and Anathema out of the room.

“Is Adam okay?” “Did he die?” “Am I going to get superpowers or something?” The kids threw questions at them one after another and as much as Anathema attempted to answer them, they just came up with more questions to ask.

With a strumming of strings, the room went silent. Crowley dipped into a random chord progression then was very melancholic, but the more he picked up the pace, the happier the tune seemed to be. Crowley’s eyes were closed and his hands moved effortlessly. It wasn’t long before the entire room fell silent with soft snores and relaxed breaths. Crowley sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. He had gone softer than any demon ever could.

* * *

  


“It’s going to be an absolute nightmare!” Newton fretted, running a hand through his hair over and over. Crowley rolled his eyes.

He wasn’t annoyed per se, but he was annoyed. Newton and Anathema’s wedding day had finally come. Newton was pacing back and forth across the room and Aziraphale and Shadwell attempted to calm him down.

Crowley just wanted to get this over with. He had a headache, the holiness of the wedding was beginning to get to him. Newton and Anathema decided not to have their wedding at a church so Crowley could attend, but all of the other decorations and items and the fucking priest going around with a blessed bible were beginning to make Crowley’s head spin.

“He knew he was going to have to play today, so why would he go out and get drunk last night?” Newton ranted.

The predicament was that Newton’s cousin had a hangover. Newton’s cousin was supposed to play the piano when the Bride and Groom whiled down the aisle. Newton’s cousin was also supposed to play piano during the bride and groom’s dance. But Newton’s cousin, his despicably idiotic stupid cousin, had walked into the building tripping over his own feet barely able to see straight let alone play the piano.

“What am I going to do? I have a violinist to play during the dance but it won't sound the same without an accompaniment. And who’s going to play when we’re being walked down the aisle?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Aziraphale comforted, rubbing Newt’s back.

“It’s over! I’m done! It’s going to be the worst wedding in the history of weddings.” Newt whined.

Newt started to rant again, so Aziraphale relinquished his comforting duties and left it to Shadwell to calm down the distraught husband-to-be.

“I feel so bad.” Aziraphale gnawed on his bottom lip.

“I don’t.” Crowley twirled a strand of his hair. He’d grown it back out to shoulder length, missing how long it was in the past and how versatile it could be.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale smacked the demon on the shoulder. “If only we had a replacement. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if you knew how to play piano?”

Crowley looked away, pointedly avoiding Aziraphale’s gaze.

“You’re kidding!” The angel gasped.

“Angel--”

“Crowley, you could make this the best day of his life!”

“ _I know_ , but I’m not in the mood.”

“It would make my day-- no, my week-- no, my year if you did this for him.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist, chin resting against his chest. “Please?”

“Aziraphale…” Crowley sighed dramatically, pressing a quick kiss to his angel’s nose. “It looks like I have no choice in the matter.”

Aziraphale cheered excitedly. Sure, he was glad that he was able to help Newton and Anathema, but Aziraphale was a selfish angel. He’d wanted nothing more than to see Crowley perform, and with the piano being amongst one of his favorite instruments, it only made sense for him to want his favorite person in the world to play it.

“Newton, Crowley here would be delighted to play piano for you!” Aziraphale smiled giddily.

“Really?! Crowley, you’re a lifesaver, I mean it, I owe you!” Newton hugged Crowley, leading the demon awkwardly hugging him back while simultaneously trying to hide his blush.

Newton practically dragged Crowley down the halls of the building and outside into the courtyard. The piano was white and glossy. It had golden accents and it seemed so weird for the serpentine demon who was always clad in black to be playing such a pure looking piano. Nonetheless, he played a few random songs as guests filed into the room.

A few kids ended up crowding around him, requesting certain songs or asking how he played so well. An older woman ushered the children to their seats and instructed Crowley to begin playing the meddling march. Everything ran smoothly for the most part.

Pepper was supposed to be the flower girl, but everyone in the audience was surprised when she came walking down the aisle in a tux along with Wensleydale who threw flowers into the air with a bright excited smile.

Adam and Brian, the worst people to be chosen as ring bearers, nearly lost the rings several times within the minute it took to walk down the aisle. It was funny in a way, but Newt looked a thousand years older by the end of it.

During vows, Crowley began to doze off since he wasn’t supposed to be playing. Aziraphale tossed pieces of paper at the back of his head to keep him awake, throwing stern looks in his general direction whenever he could.

When Newton and Anathema kissed, the audience erupted into happy cheers. If you bright it up, he would deny it but, Crowley was most definitely crying.

Crowley did _not_ like the violinist who he was supposed to be playing with. The girl was much too headstrong and randomly changed the tempo and key of the songs they played which made it rather difficult, and annoying, for Crowley. Aziraphale laughed every time he caught Crowley throwing a glare at the girl.

By the end of the wedding, Crowley was exhausted. That priest decided to have a 30-minute conversation about how amazing Crowley’s playing was and while Crowley was grateful for the compliments, he didn’t like being in such close proximity with a bottle of holy water.

The angel and demon walked to the Bentley hand in hand, Aziraphale rubbing his thumb across the back of Crowley’s hand.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“It’s nothin’.” Crowley shrugged.

“Ever the pessimist.” Aziraphale joked, leaning his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “I’m serious. You’re so amazing. You never cease to amaze me.”

Crowley didn’t speak, he simply smiled to himself feeling strangely happy despite the exhaustion that seeped deep into his bones. He basked at this moment under the orange sky.

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Crowley was _not_ good with people. Sure he radiates the energy of an extroverted rockstar, but in reality, he was a cold-blooded snake who wanted nothing more than to sleep beside his angel.

Crowley loved the humans though. He had for 6000 years. He enjoyed watching what they could create with their imaginations. He’d befriended people like Freddie Mercury, Bill Nye, and even Barack Obama and none of them were the same as the last. Despite his love for the humans, right now he kind of wished they had been wiped out by armageddon.

Adam, Brian, Wensleydale, Pepper, and Aziraphale were completely obsessed with this convention. Enough so that they had woke Crowley up at the asscrack of dawn so he could drive them to Birmingham. Crowley didn’t see what the fuss was about, but listened to the five of them rant about how they would get to meet their favorite actors and authors and directors and characters and— Crowley stopped listening after that.

There was almost no parking when they arrived, so Crowley tempted a middle-aged man in a pony t-shirt to park somewhere else. Aziraphale scolded him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Crowley thought that there was no way these many people were interested in a stupid convention, but _oh boy_ was he wrong. The convention center was filled to the brim with kids, teens, and adults alike who were scrambling from place to place to take pictures or buy merchandise. It hurt Crowley’s head just thinking about it.

“Meet us back here at 12:00 so we can get lunch together.” Aziraphale instructed the kids who were barely listening in the first place. They immediately ran off once Aziraphale let them.

Aziraphale dragged Crowley from booth to booth. Crowley’s head buzzed from all of the commotion. His glasses didn’t seem to be helping block out the bright lights that illuminated the hall from above. Crowley wanted to claw his eyes out.

“Oh my— I have to get a picture with her!” Aziraphale gasped, bouncing on his toes excitedly.

“Why?”

“I-- It’s Becky Albertalli and I’ve become obsessed with her work as of late. I _must_ get a photo!” Aziraphale grinned.

Crowley took one look at the line that winded all the way to the entrance and decided that he wasn’t going to wait in line, so matter how much he loved Aziraphale. He twirled a strand of his hair with his index finger, eyes jumped all around the room but never landing on Aziraphale.

“I’m going to walk around. Call me when you get closer to the front?”

“Oh, alright. Are you okay?” Aziraphale’s face softened, suddenly worried.

“Yeah, of course. I’m just trying to...explore is all.” Crowley lied.

“Okay then. Be careful!”

Crowley stalked off without another word. It only took him about 10 minutes to realize his mistake. He’d been consumed by the crowd, unable to tell which way was left or right. He couldn’t even remember where the entrance was.

Some rowdy teens were scrambling and stampeding over one another to get to one of the exhibition halls. They’d completely disregarded anyone in their way, leading them to knock over Crowley. Usually, he would have cursed at them or ignored them if Aziraphale with him, but as it was, neither of those options were available at the moment.

Crowley’s glasses slid across the floor and before he could even process that they had fallen, an ignorant mother pushing a stroller ran over them, not even acknowledging that she had destroyed someone’s property. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut against the lights and ran an anxious hand through his hair. He was being flanked on all sides by people not paying attention to was was going on. He wanted Aziraphale but he didn’t even know what booth he had left his angel at.

“Fuck.” He cursed, scrambling to find an open area of some sort.

He spotted a hanging banner that read ‘bathrooms’ and wasted no time in trying to shove his way through the crowd. A herd of teens came running out of the bathrooms, screaming something about how “ROBERT DOWNEY JR AND TOM HOLLAND ARE IN EXHIBITION HALL 3!!!”. Crowley was just happy that the bathrooms seemed to be empty.

He damn near stumbled into the boy’s restroom, getting to the counter. Golden eyes stared back at him in the mirror and he squeezed them shut, running water over his hands and splashing water in his face. The back of his neck felt damp with sweat and Crowley wished he had the will to miracle himself another shirt or something.

Even after 15 minutes, his hands were still trembling at even the thought of going back outside. That many people in one condensed area never spelt good news and Crowley didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of it again. He felt sick to his stomach, rushing into the handicapped stall and locking the door. He paced for a few minutes, hoping that eventually he’d wear himself out and his anxiety would subside, but this only proved to make matters worse as he struggled to catch his breath.

Demons and angels didn’t need to breathe, that much was true. Although, Crowley and Aziraphale were on earth and were given corporeal vessels that reacted to stimulus just as any other human would. So when faced with Crowley’s overwhelming anxieties, his body struggled to keep up.

“Shit shit shit,” he hissed as his back collided with was wall and he slid to the floor.

He tucked his knees to his chest, trying to make himself impossibly smaller. Part of him wished he could just revert to his snake form, but he wasn’t mentally prepared enough to deal with the chaos that would follow once he was discovered.

The bathroom door swung open. “I’ll never get this stain out. Leave it to me to embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Crowley tuned the voice out, tugging on his hair in hopes that it would ground him. He hated this. he hated it so fucking much. He wanted to go home and sleep. Anything other than this. Suddenly his phone rang in his jacket pocket. He couldn’t remember when he discarded his jacket, but there it was lying across from him.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked. “Are you in here?”

A soft knock rasped on the other side of the door and Crowley rugged harder on his hair. “Jussssst go away!” He hissed angrily. Not with Aziraphale of course, but with the world.

“Crowley, dear. I can’t help you from out here.”

“I didn’t assssssk for your help. Go away.”

Aziraphale was determined, per usual, to help his demon. Crowley always pushed everyone away, like it was his instinct. He tried to deal with things on his own, and while he was getting better with each passing day, there were moments like these where Aziraphale felt like he was back at the beginning of it all where he and Crowley had barely even met.

“I’m going to come in, alright?” Aziraphale miracles the door open, silently sliding into the stall and shutting the door behind him.

Aziraphale was at a loss of what to do. He didn’t think he would get this far to be completely honest. Crowley looked absolutely devastated on the floor, his body shaking with the occasional tremble and his eyes squeezed shut. He gnawed on his bottom lip until one of his canines punctured it and it began to bleed slightly.

“Crowley—”

“Shut up! Jusssst be quiet for three sssssecondss.” He whined as he put his hands over her ears.

It clicked for Aziraphale. He should have seen it coming really. Crowley has been disinterested in everything all day and while it could have been because he was forced to come, usually Crowley warmed up to new things, eventually finding some way to make it enjoyable for himself. Crowley seemed strangely resigned the entire time, like he was barely staying afloat within this ocean of commotion and insanity.

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale muttered. “I didn’t notice.”

Crowley willed his breath to stopped running away from him, begging himself to calm down and just _breathe._ He ran a shaking hand through his hair frustratedly as his breaths settled a bit and while they still came unevenly, he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.

“I...I was just so excited that I didn’t think about how you were feeling.” Aziraphale’s eyes never left Crowley, checking over him again and again. “I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“It’sss not your fault.” Crowley said finally.

His voice was thin and quiet and he refused to make eye contact with Aziraphale. He fidgeted with his shoelaces nervously, eyes flicking up to look at Aziraphale but glancing off again once he made eye contact.

“Are you feeling better?”

Crowley shrugged.

“I’m going to touch you, alright?”

Another shrug.

Crowley could try to pretend like he didn’t care, but he instinctively leaned into Aziraphale’s warmth, eyes fluttering shut. Aziraphale found Crowley’s hands and held them like he could stop them from shaking just by believing it. He kept one hand on top of Crowley’s and ran the other thought Crowley’s hair.

Aziraphale didn’t even notice when he started humming. Crowley relaxed further against the feeling of Aziraphale’s chest vibrating as he began to sing. Sam Smith was one of the few modern artists that Aziraphale knew about. So of course he found himself singing the melancholic love songs in an attempt to sooth his demon. He glanced down to find the demon fast asleep. He’d be there for Crowley as long as they both shall live.

**Author's Note:**

> The songs that Crowley sings are:
> 
> Monster- Dodie in the first part because you can’t tell me that Crowley didn’t listen to her music when he was all sad and emotional about Aziraphale 
> 
> House of Memories- Panic! At The Disco. Crowley definitely met the band and was devastated when they broke apart. He and Brendon still talk sometimes and he was definitely the inspiration for songs like “Hallelujah”, “This is Gospel”, “Emporer’s New Clothes” and “Say Amen (Saturday Night)”.
> 
> Love Like You and Giant Woman- Steven Universe because Adam is obsessed with it and definitely pulled Crowley into it at some point.
> 
> Aziraphale sings Life Support by Sam Smith and also Midnight Train by Sam Smith. I’m emotionally invested in them, please stop me. 
> 
> THIS MIGHT BE LONGER THA THE OTHER ONE, BUT IT DOESNT MAKE IT ANY BETTER,,,
> 
> Comment some requests and I’ll probably do them!! I just don’t want to do smut because that gets uncomfortable to write (and I’m bad at it lmao). 
> 
> Can you tell that I’m running on 5 hours of sleep?
> 
> Also I have an Instagram for anyone who wants to harass me @mdotleyy and I have a tumblr but I kind of forgot it because I Never Use It. Okay this is getting really long I just want someone to talk to thank you very much.


End file.
